1\ acropolis cloud gazing
—That cloud looks like a hypothalamus.
I squinted at what I believed to be the cloud in question. I decided to take her word for it since she’d been to med school. By been to med school I mean she’d spent a day touring Miskatonic Medical School before deciding it wasn’t for her.
Doctors were always busiest in the fall she’d told me, because of everyone going back to school and being worried about the flu, but that was when her pneumonia always flared up. She’d be too sick to work with the sick, and so she decided on a career as the make-over girl at the cosmetics counter in Macy’s.
I didn’t know pneumonia could flare up, but I’d never spent the day at medical school.
We were laying near the top of a hill, the small lake spread out below. The Acropolis sat at one edge of the lake, its caryatids keeping close watch on the park spread out before it.
K’s hand sleepwalked across the sky to follow a small bundle of cloud. She giggled:
—Like a little kitten.
—I wonder where its ball of yarn is?
—Must have gotten lost behind the couch.
I think the couch may have been the storm cloud that broke before the sun was up that morning and tried to wash away the gray dawn. The rain was gone now, the ground dry, the sidewalks parched again. The city’s wakeup call was probably rolling around above those clouds now, deciding what to be next.
I forgot about the leaking cloud couch as K adjusted herself on the hill trying to properly fluff the grass behind her head. Her elbow brushed against my arm, sending a wave of freezing fire through my body that settled smoldering in the back of my stomach.
She took her arm away from mine to reach up to the kitten again and laughing scratched playfully behind its ears.
Posted on September 2, 2011, in Adventures with K, Fiction, Part 1, Work in Progress and tagged cloud gazing, fiction, hypothalamus, kitten, Miskatonic, Parthenon, pneumonia. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.